rotten luck and testing patience
by shashaway
Summary: Yuri can't believe his rotten luck; to be in China for a Grand Prix with this embarrassing couple cheering on him, wearing cat ears and signs saying Yurio and every variation of good luck. Moreover, there's also that guy again; whose blood would stain the ice later on and it would smell like Maple Syrup.
1. Chapter 1

**Notes**

I don't even know man. This just happened what even.

* * *

He's counting one, two, three, then opens his eyes.

Nope, they're still there, with big blue banner on their hands. Though his photo thankfully is quite flattering since it's the one when he was wearing the tiger shirt and the cat ears, but it's the _Udači! Ganbatte!_ And variations of _Good Luck_ in so many languages along with the dreaded nickname _Yurio_ on the banner that's the problem.

"Yurio! Good luck! We'll be here cheering for you!" Yuuri waves his free hand excitedly, the cat ears on his head bobs along his jumps. He still can't believe he lost the Grand Prix Final and World Championship last year to this man sometimes. "I'll make Katsudon for you if you win!" He smiles, as if Yuuri isn't one of his competitors for the Gold medal.

But then again, it's Yuuri Katsuki who cried and hugged him so hard when Yuri won gold in Rostelecom, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he'll do this kind of thing.

The image of Katsudon appears on his mind, and Yuri has to shake his head to stop it from distracting him.

"Yurio! You'll do great!" Beside Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov—the five times winner of World Championship, is grinning while holding the banner over his head. "The God of Cats will bless you!"

Red flush rises on his cheeks, imagining Cats around him—especially since his Short Program is called The Sound of Roaring Tiger—blessing him with their amazing and divine selves, and their soft fur and their roars, and their beautiful grace—

"Show them that tiny Russian kitten has claws!" Victor continues without missing a beat and Yuri bristles.

"I'M NOT TINY!" He has grown three centimeters since last year!

"He's not tiny, Victor," Yuuri agrees, looking at Victor with amused smile. "Yuri has grown since last year, and he's 16 now." The man turns to Yuri with such a fond look. "Already an adult, right?"

"Of course I am!" Yuri glares at them, ignoring the warmth blooming on his chest. "Stop treating me like a kid!"

Victor however, looks horrified. "Yuri's an adult... I feel so old!" He grabs Yuuri's shoulders in dramatic fashion—because that's what he is, Victor is such a drama queen. " _Solnyshko_ , do I look old? Is my hair thinning already?"

"You're always beautiful, darling." Yuuri reaches to the silver strands, caressing them softly. " _Ya lyublyu tebya_."

Victor melts, grasping Yuuri's fingers and kissing them softly. "As I do for you, _lyubov moya_."

And now they're looking at each other with such tender expression; not minding the cameras around them, nor Yuri's increasing annoyance. Seriously, can't they stop looking like _that_ for just _a moment_? Yuri's going to do a short program soon, he doesn't want to feel nauseated because Victor and Yuuri are being gross in front of his unfortunate eyes.

There's no use yelling at them now, since nothing can disturb them when they're on their own little world. Yuri has enough experience with them to know Victor and Yuuri would probably stare at each other for minutes before they get back to the real world. At least it's not _that expression_ on their faces, which Yuri knows to mean that he has to get away soon or his eyes would be graced by an unsightly sight.

Whatever, he grumbles. Yuri's an adult now. He has promised himself to keep his temper in check; and if he ever finds himself with a partner, he would never be a gross couple like Victor and Yuuri. He has enough decency, thank you.

He thinks he's quite successful in his promises too. He doesn't have a partner nor crushes like those kids in his school do—since his life is busy enough with ice skates, he doesn't have time nor interest in dating—and his temper isn't as fiery as last year. He would consider he's getting softer now, except that Yuri Plisetsky isn't soft. Yuri Plisetsky is strong and fiery, but is much more mature than people his age because he can regulate his emotions better—being around Victor and Yuuri is enough to test anyone's patience after all.

Thus, Yuri walks with his chin high to the ice rink, where he's going to do his personal best on the short program and gets the first rank—because he's going to get better score than Yuuri's—then do better score on the free skate to get the gold medal—

"Ah, Yuri!"

Before him, is another—even more annoying than Victor and Yuuri combined—skater by the name of Jean-Jacques Leroy; with outrageous smirk on his—admittedly—handsome face.

"I'll be looking up for your magnificent performance—" JJ steps aside and bows with flourish—a hand on his chest and the other straight pointing the ice rink, "O' beautiful, Russian fairy prince," he says in deep voice, sending a wink at him and Yuri can hear the sound of JJ's fainting fans drop to the floor with dreamy screams.

Never mind his promises. Blood is going to be spilled on ice, _and it would smell like Maple Syrup._

* * *

 **Notes**

PS. My tumblr username is sacheland, if anyone wants to scream YoI with me...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes**

I should reflect on my life. This is getting too crack.

(￢_￢;)

* * *

Yuri slumps on his chair, ignoring the cameras and everyone around him. He messes up. He didn't land the quadruple salchow and triple toe loop combination. Yes, it's ambitious of him to do the jumps in second half of the program and he shouldn't have feeling so down because he gets a pretty good score; but it does bother him. This short program, The Sound of Roaring Tiger, feels very personal to him. He wants to convey the strength and gracefulness of a tiger, wants to show people how amazing their beautiful form on ice; instead, he showed how clumsy the tiger is by missing a chance to catch their prey.

"Yurochka," Yakov pats his back as they step out of the Kiss and Cry. "You did great today."

Stiffly, he nods. Of course Yakov would say that; Yakov is his coach and objectively, Yuri knows that he did well in the short program. Still...

Yakov sighs. "I guess I should say good luck," his grasp on Yuri's shoulder tightens briefly before he lets go.

Perplexed, he raises an eyebrow and about to ask what his coach means when _something_ grabs his body, "Yurio!" The _something_ yells.

Yuri screams, he is suspended on the air by hands on his waist—hands belonged to none other than Victor Nikiforov—as the man swings him around. Yuri's vision turns blurry from the motion, he's getting dizzy and the churning on his stomach intensifies he's going to puke—

"Victor! Stop it, Yurio's going to be sick if you do that!" A voice protests.

Pouting, Victor puts Yuri back on the floor. "I just want to show how proud I am..." he says and Yuri would have kicked him if his feet are steadier and he doesn't feel queasy.

"Not like that, darling," Yuuri sounds amused. Not that it stops him from hugging the life out of Yuri anyway. "That's a really great performance, Yurio," the man says, patting his head and Yuri finds his face pressed on his shoulder.

"Of course!" Victor throws his arms around them, with Yuri is sandwiched in between that he can't breathe at all. "You're such an adorable tiger~!"

"NOT ADORABLE!" He snaps, clenching his fists. "It's not supposed to be adorable! It's supposed to be strong and swift and—" but it's not strong nor fierce, Yuri thinks. Because the tiger failed to catch its prey. "I messed up," he mumbles.

"But you didn't," Yuuri objects. "Everything from the start, you did perfectly—especially the step sequence. Even if you didn't land the jump, it still counted. The tiger finds an obstacle on its path, but it still catches the prey; because you still got up and did everything perfectly, right?"

Victor excitedly nods. "You showed your best through your expressions and feelings; keeping us on our toes to watch the tiger stalks before it jumps and clenches its jaw around its prey." He should have gotten used to it, but Yuri still finds himself flushing. Victor may be annoying, but Yuri still idolizes him and he's still a great coach that he knows his words are true.

"Shut up..." how embarrassing, to have these two airheads hugging him and practically singing him praises. Still, he lets their arms tight around him; even let his face buries deeper to Yuuri's shoulder as he sags, since his legs feel weak and his chest warm. Must be the queasiness from being swung around.

"Though you're so tiny it's more like a tiger cub trying to catch its first prey—"

That does it. "I'M NOT TINY!" He struggles from Victor's embrace, trying to shove the man then kick him for a good measure. Why does everyone keep saying he's tiny? He's not! He really is not!

Yuuri laughs. "Yes, you aren't tiny. Victor is just too tall, isn't he?"

The asshole—because he is, and Yuri's going to kill him—winks. "The better to cuddle you with, sweetheart."

 _Just NO._ "Get away from me!" He shouts, horrified. "You both are gross!"

They blink at him. "Awww, Yurio," Victor grins, "You'll know when you're older how it feels—"

"I'm an adult!" He protests.

"—to be in love with such an amazing person," Victor continues, hands take Yuuri's gently, "That your feelings overwhelm you with so much love—" he kisses the knuckles of Yuuri's fingers.

And of course, Yuuri—whose eyelashes flutter coyly—chooses to slip his fingers into Victor's mouth.

The perks of being a genius skater are a lot. Like his amazing reflex in turning around; his ability to ignore his surrounding and feel the music inside himself; and to channel his anger into positive thing such as closing his eyes and counting cats. Cats are better, much better than _whatever_ Victor and Yuuri are doing behind his back.

Twenty-seven cats later, approaching footsteps stop before him. " _Bel ange_!"

With dread, his eyes open to a thousand watt smile from none other than the King of Asshole holding a bouquet of red roses. "What do you want, Jerk-Jackass Loser?" He asks pleasantly.

The insult doesn't work on JJ obviously, the guy is shameless with ego bigger than the world. "I'm absolutely in love with your performance today," he says. "You looked radiant, _mon chaton_ , with your form and your expression so fierce; I have to give you these roses—as beautiful as we both are—to show my heartfelt feelings," the man thrusts the bouquet into Yuri's hands.

Numbly, he stares at the roses on his hands. " _Ty che, blyad_?"

"Language!" Victor admonishes. Seems they stopped making out and now looming behind his shoulders with interest.

Stubborn like a moose that he is, JJ continues, "As I said before, _tu es vraiment magnifique_ , _mon ange._ I hope to see more of you in the future with me," and the man _winks_.

Faintly he hears both Yuuri and Victor simultaneously say " _Uh oh!"_ But Yuri's far too surprised to do anything else besides gaping. Does JJ imply what Yuri thinks he does?

Because Yuri must have heard him wrong. Ever since he won gold in Rostelecom last year, while JJ still teased him sometimes, Yuri found him almost _pleasant_ because his condescending attitude decreased a lot. Except in the World Championship, JJ seemed to be gotten worse than before Rostelecom. He didn't tease Yuri anymore, because he didn't even _talk_ to him and basically ignored him; worse because he stared _a lot_ , and Yuri just knew that JJ was looking down on him _again_. His words before Yuri did his short program today, were the first for months—and just as condescending as he did before Rostelecom.

So Yuri does the next best thing beside murder. He chucks the bouquets at the man's face. " _T_ _y che, suka, o'khuel blya_?"

JJ blinks. "Is that a compliment?"

"IT'S NOT!" How could this guy thinks it's a compliment when Yuri just _slammed the bouquet on his face_?

"Definitely not," both Yuuri and Victor add.

"Oh," JJ frowns. Such a strange look for him to have a disconcerted expression. "Why?" He asks in bewildered tone, as if he can't comprehend how someone could hate him.

"You—" what the hell with this jerk? From someone who shared Maple Syrup to his competitors in GPF; suddenly turned into condescending bastard who acted as if he didn't have time _to even talk_ with him; and now, acting innocent as if he hasn't humiliated Yuri enough.

Yuri takes a shaky breath. He needs to be patience. Yuri is an adult, someone has to be the mature one in this situation.

"Listen, JJ, you fucking take that bouquet back with you because I have no time for your game." He glares for a good measure and turns to Victor and Yuuri. "Let's just go back," he says, and then softly mumbles, "I'm tired."

They glance at each other. "Sure," Victor smiles. "See you tomorrow, JJ."

Beside him, Yuuri waves his hand. "Good luck, JJ."

"You too," JJ replies, voice fainter than usual.

Not that Yuri notices his expression, of course; because Yuri doesn't care and—look it's Phichit leaning on the wall with his phone in hand and impish grin on his face.

"Ah Yuri!" He puts the phone in his pocket and smiles. "Good job for today!"

"You too," he replies, a bit wary since Phichit's smile is a little bit too bright.

He wishes he believes his instinct when it warns him that Phichit is up to no good.

That night, Yuri is opening instagram when notifications almost blow up his phone.

,,,

The problem seems to be from seven parts videos that Phichit upload. The videos from the event that afternoon, including him chucking bouquet of flowers at JJ in HD. Those videos, all with the same captions below.

,.

 **phichit+chu** is reporting from The Cup of China!

The juicy drama between Jjleroyl15 (also known as King JJ from the skater world by his fans), and yuri-plisetsky (or the angry murder kitten from Russia).

Is another Victuuri going to be born in this Grand Prix? Stay tune to this instagram!

(Also featuring the dads of the angry murder kitten; v-nikiforov the five times World Champion, and Yuuri Katsuki the winner of World Championship last year.

JJ, you should try to get past the dads first; that's an advice from this family friend.)

 **#Phichit #Beijing #Jean-JacquesLeroy #YuriPlisetsky #YuriKatsuki #VictorNikiforov**

,.

Oh, the blood that's going to be spilled on ice? He wonders how maple syrup would smell if mixed with _Thailand spices._

* * *

 **Translation:**

 _Bel ange =_ beautiful angel

 _Ty che, blyad_? = what the fuck?

 _Mon chaton =_ my kitty

 _Tu es_ _vraiment_ _magnifique_ , _mon ange =_ you're truly magnificent, my angel

 _T_ _y che, suka, o'khuel blya_? = are you fucking crazy, you asshole?

Correction is appreciated. My french is abysmal, even worse is my Russian.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes**

I'm recovered and healthy now, so I continue this fic!

I'm really surprised that you guys like this crack fic, it makes me so damn happy because I thought I was on the saddest part of the fandom who live for crack fics and no one else do. Seriously guys, thank you so much. I'm glad I'm not alone in loving crack fics. Also thank you for your support!

*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*

I should warn you though, this fic is really pre-slash and focused more about friendship—and cracks obviously. It's gonna be canon divergence from 9th episode (which means JJ doesn't have a girlfriend because I write this fic and not including the girlfriend in mind), although I'll try to make it closer to canon.

This fic could also end up subtle JJ with Yurio, or Otabek with Yurio, or JJ with Otabek, or ambiguous threesome.

Who knows? (certainly not me)

* * *

There are a lot of things he needs to do. Such as doing his best on the FS, to win gold and ensure his participation in GPF, eating grandpa's katsudon pirozhki, and so on. First and foremost important though: is homicide.

"PHICHIT CHULANONT!" He bellows, ignoring the sight of confused people to look for _that cockroach_ he's going to murder then use his gut as a toy for his cat. "COME OUT, YOU BITCH! I'LL MAUL YOU!"

Someone in the vicinity, squeaks.

 _Found that shithead_ , Yuri can't stop his grin.

The aforementioned cockroach is in fact trying to hide behind his Italian coach—whom looking quite amused as he tells his student, "You should face the consequence of your action, Phichit."

Said student shoots his coach a betrayed look. He's about to retort when a predator grabs his collar and drags the bastard to a corner. " _Phichit Chulanont you're so FUCKING DEAD._ "

"Yuri Plisetsky!" Phichit forces a smile, beads of sweat running down his temple. "Glad to see you! Hope your free skate will be such a great performance today!"

"You know what would be a great performance?" Yuri towers over him, as he is—he remembers—a centimeter taller than the cockroach he's going to _squash_. "That you will _fucking die_ and I will put your body under ice so I can dance upon _your corpse_."

"No need to be hasty!" Phichit whimpers. "Really, I'm sure the ISU won't accept murder to ever happen, see?"

"No one needs to fucking know, you _instragram slut_." Yuri hisses. "Now, do you have any last word before I gut you with my skates?"

Phichit looks around, seeking for help perhaps, though it's futile. Yuri is sure no one will see anything behind the potted plant—which is considerably taller than them both. "YUURI!" He calls loudly. "HELP!"

Shit.

"Phichit! Yurio!" Yuuri runs to them looking frazzled with Victor beside him. "Mmm... Yurio, I think you should let go of Phichit—"

"No fucking way!" Yuri growls. "I'm going fucking to kill him!"

"Please don't! My fans would be devastated!" Phichit cries.

"WHO FUCKING CARES ABOUT YOUR FANS?"

"Calm down!" Yuuri tries to appease them. "I'm sure we can talk about this peacefully—"

"Or, they can just battle it out?" Victor cheerfully suggests.

"There's no battle to speak of!" Yuuri objects, and Phichit nods vehemently. "Victor be serious!"

"I'm serious—"

"GO AWAY! THIS IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"

"Now Yurio—"

"Yuuri." Phichit suddenly speaks gravely and everyone turns to him in unison. "I'm calling for The Favor number 18."

"What favor—" Yuri starts to say but instead he finds his hands are pried from Phichit's collar and he's on the air and looking at the ceiling.

What.

"PUT ME DOWN BASTARD!" He screeches, hands flailing on the air as Yuuri—that shitty katsudon—easily lifts Yuri's body over his head.

"No can do. Sorry Yurio," Yuuri apologizes below him while Victor bends over laughing.

Phichit giggles. "Thank you Yuuri!" He says, taking his phone from a pocket. "Can you keep that up for a moment? I have to take a selfie."

"Phichit, no!" Yuuri protests, but he keeps lifting Yuri as Phichit cheerily takes a selfie with them in the background before the skater runs away with a wave and a skip on his steps.

This, Yuri concludes, is a nightmare. "LET ME DOWN MOTHERFUCKER I'M GOING TO MURDER HIM!"

* * *

"Have you calm down yet?" Victor offers a juice box.

No, he's not. Yuri has scrolled down instagram and that instagram whore just posted _that selfie_ ; with Phichit gasped to the camera as if in terror while Victor was practically on the floor laughing, Yuuri grimaced with his hands lifting Yuri's back, and him— _Yuri was flailing on the air_. He, a supposedly predator, menacing in his prowl, _was easily lifted by a katsudon_ ; and everyone would think how pathetic Yuri is.

Even worse is the caption.

 **phichit+chu** just escaped from being clawed to death by yuri-plisetsky!

I had to call The Favor™ number 18 from my best friend, Yuri Katsuki—you guys can see how strong he is, v-nikiforov is so lucky—to be free!

Not to worry, my dears, Phichit Chulanont is still alive and well; nothing will stop me from reporting the latest juicy news from China!

 **#Phichit #Beijing #YuriPlisetsky #YuriKatsuki #VictorNikiforov**

He doesn't know if he should burn the internet or burn himself instead.

"It's not that bad," Yuuri says and he shoots him a glare. How dare him, after doing _that thing_.

"How can you say that! I'm humiliated!"

"Being viral is not always bad, Yurio." Victor takes Yuuri's hand between his gently. "If it's not because a viral video, I would never be with Yuuri."

Okay, no. That's different. Yuri is pretty sure that video or no video, Victor would still jump into the plane looking for the drunk hottie pole dancing in the banquet anyway—as Mila swore to do just to stop him brooding and looking pathetic.

"It's different!" Yuri—he doesn't whine—retorts; hands tugging on their sleeves persistently, trying to forcefully shake them out of their gross married world. "Everyone thinks that I—have disgusting _thing_ with the jerk-jackass! And now my picture flailing on the air is everywhere—no thanks to you—what about my reputation!?"

"What reputation?" Victor quips and Yuri kicks his shin. "Ouch, I mean I don't think your reputation would be hurt. They would just think you're just funny, right?"

Yuri narrows his eyes. Right, he asked the wrong person. Or the right person in terms of doing ridiculous things. He can remember all the stupid photos of Victor stripping everytime he's drunk.

"Yurio..." Yuuri tentatively calls him. "Is it—is it because the World Championship?"

Oh no, he didn't.

"I—" Yuri stands up sharply. "I'm going to find Lilia and Yakov. Bye." He walks away with his head straight; he doesn't need to look back to know both Yuuri and Victor have conversation with their eyes alone.

Fucking gross married couple.


End file.
